


Love Stories of Fictional Men.

by thewriterrose



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Content, The Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterrose/pseuds/thewriterrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There are going to be many other parts to this.  I will be doing different men–mostly fictional–for every chapter.  I hope you enjoy it!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Clint Barton/Hawkeye. (The Avengers 2012)

**Author's Note:**

> There are going to be many other parts to this. I will be doing different men–mostly fictional–for every chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

Long plane trips had always been easy to Rose. But this? She didn't even know what _this_ was. What kind a ship was she even on? At first, she thought it was a submarine, then a boat, then a plane, then some kind of war machine.  Now, she just doesn't even know. She couldn't even fathom was it would be to look out the window. She had often strayed away from the things that she feared. This time, however, it was unavoidable. She'd gotten a knock on her door, and it had, of course, been none other than Tony Stark. Rose wasn't as impressed as she probably should have been, but she wasn't rude. She'd met him once or twice, and those times hadn't been very pleasant. The first, he was drunk. The second, well, let's just not get into that. At least she was still alive.

"Yes?" She'd asked.

Tony had come on the account of Natasha Romanoff making him. Everyone was a little too busy to take a plane out, and he was the only one that could fly easily that also knew Rose personally. 

So, there he was. He stood in the doorway of Rose and Clint's small, but homey apartment. It was just enough for the two of them, and it was also enough to make Rose happy. All she wanted was to be with the man she loved, and intended on marrying once everything settled down.

"So, we've got a little situation," He began rather bluntly.

Rose didn't want to have to listen to his way around the truth for the next ten minutes of her life, so she simply shook her head. "What is it, Tony?" She questioned.  Her tone could have been a little nicer, like it was most of the time.  Rose was, as Clint always said, "as delicate and gentle as a rose."  _That_ was, of course, when she wasn't impatient or annoyed.

Tony knew that, with Rose, he should've probably just cut to the chase. He also knew that he should have been a little bit more gentle and understanding when giving her the news.  He wasn't as worried about Clint as everyone else was.  He barely knew the guy,  _and_ he was pretty sure they were going to win whatever battle was raging on in their direction.  They had a Hulk.  They were set.

"Have you spoken to Clint recently?" He had to make sure that the jacked up Clint hadn't contacted Rose and told her something bad.  By bad, it meant any false information like, "Don't trust anybody."  Or, "Meet me at Wendy's around ten," And then shoot her with an arrow, leaving her to die all because the crazy Asgardian told him to. 

Rose shook her head, worry flaring up in the pit of her stomach. She was used to him not calling her when he went on missions. She knew that she was lucky enough to even know about what her fiancé did for a living, so she didn't do much complaining. "No," She said. The expression on her face said it all. She was worried about him, thinking that he might even been dead. "What happened, Tony?" She said more impatiently.  It was more of a demand than a question.

"He's told you about Loki, right?" Tony had to make sure that she knew what he thought she did before he went rambling on.  He'd already broken enough rules that day to give away their entire mission without Fury approving of it.

Rose nodded her head, wanting to just get on with what was wrong. "The asshole from Asgard who's trying for world dominance," She said. "I know."

"Well, you're not supposed to, but that's your beloved's fault."  He really couldn't resits mockery.

"Tony, just cut to the fucking chase," She demanded, opening the door a little more so she could cross her arms comfortably. She hated having to be so rude and impatient, but she knew that that was the fastest way to determine her fate, which, by the sound of Tony's rambling, sounded a little terrible.

"Clint's under some kind of magic hypnosis that gives Loki total control over him," He blurted out. Though, it sounded much more clam than what it should have sounded like.

Rose's heart fell, but, instead of letting the sadness kick in now, she let the anger come. "What?" She demanded, her body seaming to burn from the inside out with a fire that was anything but happiness.

"Clint's under some kind of magi–"

"I heard you the first fucking time," Rose said. She couldn't even begin to wonder how this had happened, but she wanted to know who was around and who was to blame because she felt like she wanted to hit someone really hard. "I'm just a little shocked considering he works for one of the most top-secret government agencies on the whole damn planet!" Rose wasn't one to lose it a lot, but when she did, it wasn't very pretty for anyone.

"There's a lot of top-secret non-government people trying to kill all of us," Tony said. "So this really shouldn't shock you."

"How are you even calm right now?" She said in disbelief. "How is _anyone_ clam at _all_? Why aren't you doing something? Anything?"

Tony looked at Rose sincerely. "I'm doing something now, aren't I?"

And that was what landed Rose on whatever the hell it was she was on. She sat in the room that Clint had resided in whenever he went on missions on this . . .ship. Which, obviously, was very often. In the drawers were clothes and undergarments. The bathroom was stocked with painkillers and other necessities. She was simply glad that Clint was back to normal, even though he'd had a few blows to the head, courtesy of Agent Romanoff.

She looked over at him from where she sat on the bed. He was dabbing away the blood, looking into the mirror in the dimly lit bathroom. She stood up, walking to the doorway. She watched silently, until he stopped, and looked at her through the mirror with the slightest curve of his lips. "You're dying to help," He said simply.  He already knew. He handed her the once white washcloth, now a blotchy light red.

She smiled, coming around in front of him. Her butt just touched the sink as the fronts of their legs touched, Rose taking control of the situation. She had a small absent-minded smile on her face as she dabbed at the blood in his hairline. "I wasn't just going to sit there and watch," She pointed out.

Clint tried not to wince at the touchiness of his forehead. He'd taken four Advil, and he was waiting for them to kick in already. "I knew you wouldn't."

When Rose finished, all she could do was stop herself from kissing him. They were so close and that was the one thing that she couldn't ignore. She could resits Clint's charm on a good day; when they fought briefly or when she wasn't in the mood, which was rather rarely. Today, was a tiring day, and it had just become lust-filled as she turned to wash her hands in the sink.

The cool water ran over her hands as she rubbed them together, mixing it with soap. As Clint watched her, he realized how much he had missed her. He may not have been totally and completely or even remotely aware of what had happened over the last few days, but it seamed like an eternity that he'd been away from Rose. He loved her, and every time he left her he worried that she might not have been there was he came back. He knew that his job was hard on her, and he also knew that she constantly had to worry about him never coming back; it was hard on her and ofoten resulted in long nights of her tears on in pillow back at home from the sadness of his absence.

He said nothing, because he didn't need to. He watched as her hands rubbed together under the stream, and he let his arm hug her waist from where he stood: Rose's behind pressed against the front of his pants. He couldn't ignore the feeling of want he had to touch her the way only he could touch her.

A smile curved onto her lips and a small laugh escaped her mouth as she dried her hands on a hanging towel against the wall. She didn't turn to face him, though. She turned the sink off, getting a glimpse of his gaze in their reflection in the mirror. "I mean it when I say that I missed you." His voice was low, and clam, and serious. There was something so familiar to Rose inside of it.

She watched as he moved her hair from her shoulder, planting a neat, dry kiss onto the exposed skin. Her plain white tank top was see-through, leaving her lacy black bra on display. She watched weakly as his lips found her neck, and her jaw, too. She'd missed this feeling. "Clint," She breathed, letting her eyes close gently. There was a feeling that lingered inside of her, and there was a tone as she said Clint's name that sounded like she was asking a question.  He was too distracted to notice.

He found the bottom of her ear, then stopped, looking at their reflection in the mirror. When Rose's eyes opened again, their eyes locked. There were a few seconds before Rose moved. It was like their eyes was speaking for themselves, knowing exactly what it was that their owner's were yearning for: each other.

Rose turned around almost _too_ quickly, pressing her lips against Clint's gently, and slowly. The slowness made them crave each other even more, but neither of them sped up the kiss. Clint, wanting to savor that moment and live in it forever, twisted his lips with her's once again, his hands rested on her waist. There seamed to be something so true and innocent in their kisses that made fate favor their affection. The right mixture between the two of them just made their love so pure that it was nearly unbreakable.

Rose felt behind her for the sink, and pushed herself up onto it so she sat on the edge. Clint's body never lost contact contact with her's. He didn't want it to, either. As her legs found his waist, their breaths grew uneven and rather heavy. When their lips met again, there was nothing gentle about their pecks of affection. They wanted each other more than they each wanted anything else in the entire universe. They kissed like each kiss would be their last, or like they had never made something so beautiful before. Like this was only their first and last chance.

Hands pulled the tank top from Rose's figure, and in return, did the same to Clint's skintight, black shirt. The moment they were able to, they kissed again, more and more heat and passion pushing their actions even farther even faster. Lust radiated off of their bodies and soaked into their skin, making them want to show every ounce off affection humanly possible.

When Clint's lips trailed down to Rose's neck, all bets were off of stopping what was going to happen. The hardness Clint felt below his waist was almost unbearable, and the hot tingle Rose felt from below her's was killing her, making her weak and desperate at the hands of the man she loved. "I really missed you," Rose almost panted, not even recognizing her own voice. Clint heard what she said, but couldn't even focus on anything but her body. Her bra still held the two things that rubbed against his torso so teasingly.

Rose's head leaned back against the mirror in a way that just exposed more and more of her body for Clint. Her hands found his belt, and struggled to undo the only thing that kept her from getting what she wanted. Once she heard the click, she pulled on the bare end until her arm hung to the side, holding the restraint freely. She dropped it mindlessly, though, pulling the waist of Clint's pants down to where he could just shake them off.

His boner was visible through his underwear, and Rose wanted nothing more than to satisfy it in every way that she could. She felt her bra come loos, and her breasts loose their only support, only to be replace with strong, hard hands. Rose fought off a forceful moan as Clint kneaded and sculpted her breasts, making her body push toward his even more. She wanted him, and she could feel his member brush against the front of her panties that she could have just ripped off that very second. She pushed forward enough to where Clint backed up, and she jumped down from the sink, her arms wrapping around her lover's neck, kissing him desperately and absently.

Clint picked Rose up, his hands testing her thighs until the clung to his waist again, both hands holding her entire being up by her butt. He couldn't have gotten to the bed fast enough, laying her back down against the sheets and hovering over her. He kissed just above the waistband of her black matching undergarment. The black, satiny fabric was the only barrier from want he wanted. The wetness of her entrance was almost soaking through his companion's underwear.

With Rose's observation, she arched her hips, letting Clint remove her underwear quickly and easily. She sat up as he did after throwing the black wad to the side. She was completely exposed, and Clint could only admire how perfect her figure was. It was beautiful in his eyes, and it was the only thing that he cared to call his.

Rose's hands found Clint's underwear, pulling them down and sliding them off with his help. Their chests pressed against each other as they kissed once again. There was nothing slow about anything in the moment of desperateness, and there wasn't anything that would stop them form showing how much they cared for one another.

With Rose leaning back to lay her hand against the pillow, Clint's hands found her hips, moving to her legs. The silkiness of her skin was teasing him enough, and he could see as she stretched her back that she was begging to feel him inside of her. Taking his length in his hand, he rubbed it against her entrance that was already slippery and slick with hot desire.

The moan that Rose let out made Clint push into her slowly, feeling a feeling he hadn't even been able to dream about since he last felt it. He tried to stay quiet as Rose's moans of exasperation filled to room and ran through every single nerve in his body. He slowly let her adjust, though she didn't need to, and slid into her inch by inch, gripping her hips to bring her closer and closer. He filled her completely, and he thrust inside of her slowly, repeating his movements until the usual sign of Rose's pleasure struck.

Whenever they did this, she'd feel the slightest bit of pain, but it would later be replaced by a feeling that was worth the little pain she had to go through to get it. It was given at the hands of Clint, whom waited for her to let out her small moaning noise, grip the sheets, and give in to what he was about to make her feel.

It took everything inside of Rose not to scream Clint's name as she let out a breath that caught as a switch turned on inside of her. She could feel her frontal region become numb with the pleasure of the slow and steady thrusts that he provided. She clutched the covers that were beneath her hands, holding back her words.

She wanted more, so much more. The war outside of the ship didn't even matter. Clint wasn't thinking of it, and neither was Rose. They were in another world that wasn't their own. It was more like Heaven, and it was full of everything they adored and everything that defined perfection. This world was infinite and it was eternal. Clint was a hero that kept the women he loved safer than anyone else. She was all that he cared about ever since her gaze swept across his.

Rose couldn't restrain herself any further. There was no stopping the words as they forced themselves to be heard, leaving her mind defenseless. "God, go faster!" her voice was loud, and uncontrolled. She could feel something inside of her click, as if it were the floors that an elevator were passing.

Clint also couldn't help but groan lightly as he twitched inside of her. He could feel her contract around him every once and a while, and it only told him that she was getting closer and closer. By her command, he repositioned his hands, getting a tighter grip around her hips, and began to pump himself in and out of her even more rapidly. He was holding himself back now, waiting for her. He knew how much better it was when she came before him. He loved the feeling of her wall jolting around him and suffocating his member with such force that made him have no choice but to let himself go.

"Right there!" Rung through the room, and down the hallway. Neither of them noticed how loud it was simply on the account of their bodies' focuses. The intense feelings seamed to dull any care other than their feelings for pleasing one another. Nothing else existed or mattered.

Rose's back involuntarily arched upward, making her legs spread apart even more, giving Clint even more access into her. She could feel her climax approaching strong. Every single body part shivered and sung with the pleasure she felt. The tightness and wetness between their working parts only made the feeling even more unbearable.

Clint knew that she was approaching the end, but it also couldn't wash over her fast enough. His arms ached and his hips raged with the plea of stopping. But he wouldn't stop, not until they both got what they inevitably wanted.

Her breath caught, her moans running into one long, loud cry of intensity. Something inside of her bloomed and flourished as she felt herself twitch and squeeze rapidly. The feeling didn't stop, and there was no way it would. It felt as though she'd fallen, and like she still was. The aftershock of her orgasm continued as Clint's fast thrusts grew sloppier and sloppier.

He felt her contract quickly, the fit of pleasure gripping and tightening around his still-very-hard boner. Seconds passed, and he physically couldn't stop himself from being thrown over his peak. He felt a wave of hotness and adrenaline shoot through his body as it stiffened. Inside of Rose, his member grew soft, his hot, gooey mixture filling her.

There was only the sound of heavy panting and hot breath in the room as Clint pulled out, letting his singing muscles relax as he laid against the bed. He was glad that they could sleep. He needed rest, and so did she. He closed his eyes, feeling Rose's head lay against his chest, one of her arm extending to rest beside him.

He kissed her lips, feeling their presence. The kiss wasn't fast or slow, it was just right. After they parted their lips, Rose positioned the blanket over them. There was something now that she felt again as she snuggled down into his grasp. Something she'd never felt with anyone else in the entire universe: love.


	2. Ryan/The Temp (The Office, NBC)

Thea got onto the bed she shared with her boyfriend of sex months.  She tied her hair up in a messy bun as she spoke to Ryan, who laid above the covers, studying for one of his exams.  "How was the office today?"  She questioned. 

Ryan sat his book on his stomach , looking up at her. "I had to run three towns over to get Michael some yams."  The look on his face was sullen, yet it made Thea laugh and smile a little. "It's not funny."  His facial expression lightened with his tons at the sound of Thea's laugh. 

Thea straddled Ryan's lap, thinking.  "Well, at least you're getting experience," She said. 

Ryan's hands rubbed her sides affectionately as he looked up at her and almost spoke, but Thea did first.

"I wanna meet the petiole there," She said with a mischievous smile. "What about that Christmas party?"  She said gleefully.  "It's tomorrow, right?"

Ryan shook his head. "No. I'm sorry but no. That's not even remotely a good idea."

Thea laughed a little. "Why not?"  Her hands rested on his stomach unknowingly. 

Ryan shook his head. "Because in pretty sure Michael's obsessed with me, and Dwight isn't coming near you,"  He said surely. 

Thea pouted slightly, running her hands up to his collarbone, stretching her body a little. "Please?"  She questioned. 

Ryan know what she was doing.  "I know what you're doing; that face."

Thea's hips rose up, her back in an arch. "Please."  Her eyes were wanting and her lips looked like icing on a cake; Ryan's favorite part. 

"You're..."  He looked into her eyes. "No.  It's not gonna happen."

Thea sat back, then got off of him to stand up. "Fine," She said, as though she wasn't bothered.  She headed for the door. 

Ryan sat up a little, looking over at her.  "Babe, come on.  I'm sorry," He said.  

Thea shut the bathroom door silently. Ryan sat back, sighing. He hates it when she got mad at him. Except, he knew what he has to do this time. 

He got up after about thirty seconds.  He knocked on the bathroom door gently.  "I'm sorry,"  He said apologetically. 

Thea opened the door up, in her nightgown now.  She smiled. "I wasn't mad at you," She said. "I was getting ready." 

Ryan nodded his head, relief on his face. "Oh, okay.  I mean, you can go if you really want to. Just know that people are really—"

Thea's lips pressed against his, her arms hanging around his neck suddenly.  Ryan was caught of guard momentarily but kissed Thea back the second his reflexes kicked in.

His hand ran down to her waist, running up and down her thigh.  The other was tangled in her hair.  

Her body pressed against his as they back away from the bathroom unknowingly.  Ryan's body pushed Thea's against the wall hard, and Thea gasped in surprise from the coldness of the wall and the sudden contact. 

Her exasperated sound was covered with another hot, hard kiss from Ryan.  His tongue slid into her half opened mouth, outlining her's tenderly.  

His hands both slid down to her thigh again, rubbing the very spot she loved.  She jumped up, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, her back pressed against the wall, helping Ryan to hold her up. 

His palms were holding her butt, one on each side as his chest pressed against her's.

Thea reached down, pulling up on his shirt, eventually sliding it off and throwing it to the side. She didn't see where it landed, and she didn't care. 

Her palm rested on his cheek as she kissed him again.  The heat between their bodies was the usual feeling. They did this a lot. It was a miracle that she wasn't pregnant yet.  

Neither of them seamed to mind.  They just always enjoyed each other's company. 

Ryan pulled away, urging himself to. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his lungs aching for air. 

"What?" Thea breathed, panting. 

Ryan led her over to the bed, but Thea beat him there. She sat down, and gradually backed up once he began to hover over her. 

"You're so hot," she breathed before he kissed her neck, pulling her nightgown above her head and throwing it to the side. 

Ryan's small smile at her words was found on her jawline in kisses, sucking, and at the end, a small bite. 

Ryan rolled over as Thea surely read his mind, getting on top of him.  Her hands ran from his shoulders, down to his boxers, where her hands rubbed his growing length over the fabric. 

Ryan's body jolted for a seconds, his mouth parting in surprise, and to allow a grunt to escape his vocal box. "Babe—" Ryan recovered. 

Thea mad her way down, her fingers reaching the elastic on his boxers. "I love it when you make that noise," she breathed, the hotness from her voice seamed to hit his member, which was throbbing in hunger. 

Ryan reached for the top of her panties, which matched her bra adorably and sexily, and worked them down and off her legs. 

Thea undid her bra as Ryan's boxers found the floor.  He looked at her body, taking it in that it was all his. 

He didn't expect to find her mouth on his dick, and her hand working with it.  But he didn't get too excited, because she stopped, straddling his lap moments later. 

He knew what she was doing, and loved it even more than getting a blowjob from her.  He wanted her. 

She wanted him to fill her so badly that her stomach ached in want just for him. 

And he felt nothing but intense throbbing at the sight of his girlfriend.  Her movements. 

The next movement, though, he felt. 

Thea gasped as she lowered herself onto him.  He filled her inside within seconds, going all the way in.  She was used to him, that was for sure. 

"Oh, God," She exhaled.  

As Thea's eyes were shut, her head falling back in pleasure, Ryan found her sides blindly, stroking them fondly.  Slowly, he got hold of them, making her body move. 

Her hips moved rhythmically on him.  Ryan's hands were guiding her, and Thea's hands held her long hair up. 

As the speed increased, everything felt so much more intense.  To the both of them, too.  

However, as the pleasure built up inside of Thea, her movements became sloppier.  Her knees about to give out any second.  When it came to too much of the feeling, Thea almost couldn't continue. 

But Ryan knew this, and flipped her over, his elbows on both sides of her now. He slid back on quickly, need to feel her wrapped around him at the very second. 

Not wanting to lose the feeling he had, he started to move quickly again, the moaning against his jawline supplied by Thea was only bringing him higher and higher. 

Ryan began to pant, too many things to keep up with.  He continued, though. Knowing he wasn't going to stop until they both got it. 

It. 

Suddenly, Thea's continuous moan faded, being replaced seconds  later with a gasp. "Ryan!" Another moan filling the room as he hit her spot. The same spot that he always tried to find.  "There!"  He said, her hands digging into his shoulder blades. 

He continued, trying to wait for her.  It always felt so much better when he felt her contracting rapidly around him.   Her moans shortened, a feeling growing more intense in her stomach with every movement. 

He buried his face in her neck, trying his hardest to hold back.  She was so tight around him that he wanted to let go, but knew it would be so much better if he waited. 

"Don't stop!"  She begged. Her breath was exasperating, and dramatic.  She couldn't control it.  She was wasn't holding back.  Her back arched, her moans being cut off by silence except for the hard springing sound of the mattress beneath them. 

Her back arched again, and her breast pressed against Ryan's chest.  Just as she began to contract, a half-moan-half-scream filling the room, Ryan let go. 

He let out another moan, panting after as though he'd just ran a marathon. He held himself above her, kissing her roughly, ignoring his lack of breath.  

Thea's back relaxed, and her palms pressed against Ryan's chest, feeling it above her thoughtfully. 

As she came down, Ryan pulled out of her, rolling over beside her. 

Their breaths were heavy, bodies equally sweaty.  She was so hot to him, and he was so hot to her. 

"I love you so much,"  He sighed. 

Thea smiled a she directed her attention to him. She rolled over, laying her head on her shoulder and her arm across his chest. "I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking suggestions, so if there's one you want to read, just leave it in a comment!


End file.
